Albus Dumbledore was wise to steer clear of Number 12, Grimmauld Place after his brief appearance after fleeing arrest. When Kingsley's patronus reported that Fudge, in his triumph, went one step further and arrested Harry as Dumbledore's accomplice, the combined fury of the resident members had him thoroughly humbled. It wasn't just Sirius who let his anger loose. Albus Dumbledore found himself on the receiving end of Molly Weasley's rage as well as Remus Lupin's.

Sombre and grim, Dumbledore took his leave and went to stay in Hogsmeade. It was a frightening thing to witness the greatest wizard of the age to appear defeated and lost, but even his mind could not have envisaged how tyrannical Fudge had become in his paranoia.

When the edition of the Evening Prophet with Harry being led off in handcuffs made its way into the dark, dingy dining room of the Black family house, the room rang with Sirius's furious shouts as he raged. He wasn't the only one, but his reaction was the most volatile. The chairs and table were rubble by the time he wound down, his energy spent. He staggered back, leaning against the wall, wand tip burning like an ember. Remus then jumped in with Arthur to fix the furniture, watching his friend closely, his lips set in a firm line of worry.

Not long after that, Remus retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey and ushered an exhausted and defeated Sirius into the kitchen. Of all the rooms in the house, only the kitchen possessed any sort of homely feel. It had a friendly feeling absent of pureblood bigotry sprawled in every inch of the decor. The stove was on, keeping the room pleasantly warm.

Sirius had sunken into one of his sullen silences. One hand resting on the top of his drink, the other supporting his head, his dark blue eyes were unreadable. He had recovered much of his health while hiding in his family home, now fed three square meals a day and as well groomed as he used to be. Yet twelve years of Azkaban had left a permanent mark. His gaze would often turn hollow as he sunk into bad memories, a horrible hopelessness would bleaken his usually lively features. It was in those moments that Lupin felt guilt the keenest.

"Sedition." Sirius finally broke the silence, life returning to his eyes as he raised his gaze to look at his old friend. "How can any man in his right mind accuse a fifteen-year-old boy of that ?"

Remus left out a huff, giving Sirius a firm look. "Fudge isn't in his right mind."

Sirius let out a soft snort. "Either that or he's been imperiused."

Remus finished his glass of firewhiskey and pursed his lips, drumming the worn table surface with his chewed nails.

"It's rather ironic. Fudge is using Harry as a scapegoat to convince the public that he is the menace threatening the peace where really, Harry is the reason why there is peace in the first place." He reached for the bottle and topped up his glass. Sirius rolled his head on his hand, his expression darkening.

"There is just no way that the Wizengamot would pass a prison sentence for Harry. It would cause an uprising. Too many lost family to Voldemort and his followers. Even if Fudge somehow convinces them that Harry made everything up about Voldemort and used the lie to rally up troops to march on the Ministry, at the very least he'll have his wand snapped but to send a minor to Azkaban?" Sirius shook his head. "I can picture Crouch ordering it, like how he sent me to prison without a trial, but I thought those times had passed."

Sirius downed the rest of his drink and then held out a hand for the bottle. Remus passed it over to him, watching his friend carefully.

"He faces at the worst a few months in Azkaban. As much as Fudge wants to dress up the supposed crimes, Harry and his friends didn't attack anyone or launch any sort of hostile coup. Really, all Harry has done is speak out against the Minister and dispute his authority." Remus said once Sirius finished filling up his drink. Sirius looked up, drying a wry grimace.

"And aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive," Sirius pointed out roughly as he filled his glass.

"Which thankfully Fudge is unaware of."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know. When I used the floo to talk to Harry before Christmas, Umbridge nearly caught us. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm brought up in Harry's questioning. Especially when he was the one who helped me escape…" He set the bottle down. "Harry's nose isn't exactly squeaky clean. No thanks to me."

Their conversation stopped as they both heard the careful thud of the front door behind closed. Sirius twisted in his seat, looking through the open doorway. He glanced at Remus.

"Are we expecting anyone?"

Both listened to the approaching footsteps. Remus noted the lack of the thunking fake leg so it ruled out Moody. And the portrait of Sirius's mother hadn't been triggered, so it wasn't Tonks. There was a soft knock at the door to the kitchen and it swung open. In the doorway was the tall, imposing form of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He stepped inside, giving the bottle of firewhiskey an amused look.

"Hmm that appears to be a trend at the moment," he remarked, striding inside. He was still dressed in his Auror robes, raising his wand as he summoned a glass to himself. "Is Arthur here?"

"No, he went back to The Burrow about an hour ago," Remus said, leaning back in his seat. "Have you just come from the Ministry?"

"I have and I'm very grateful that you're still here," Kingley said, settling in the seat next to him. He set his glass down and Sirius immediately filled it.

"Me?" Remus asked, a little alarmed. "Why?"

Kingsley responded by reaching into his robes. He drew out an envelope, the parchment crisp and formal. He placed the letter on the table and pushed it towards Remus. Both he and Sirius looked down at it in surprise.

"I told Amelia that I know how to find you. No one questioned it," Kingsley explained. "I can tell you what it says, but it's better that you read it yourself."

Remus turned it, letting out a breath. The purple seal was unmistakable.

"A letter from the Ministry hand delivered by an Auror. Why does this feel ominous?" Lupin said dryly as he opened it. Kingsley didn't respond, only sipping at his drink. His shoulders dropped and he shared a look with Sirius. He cracked open the seal and took out the letter, unfolding it carefully and went to read.

Dear Remus Lupin,

As you are no doubt aware, we currently have Harry Potter in our custody within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while we investigate the exposed conspiracy that he is a suspected accomplice of. It is unclear at present how long our investigation will take, however, Mr Potter's personal circumstances place us in an awkward position. Ordinarily, once we have concluded our investigations and are ready to place charges, the accused would be expected to remain under house arrest until their trial. However, Mr Potter does not have a magical residence that would be suitable for the conditions of his detention. As he also does not have a valid magical guardian, we must unfortunately make arrangements for Mr Potter to be made a ward of the Ministry. This will mean that Mr Potter will be in for a lengthened stay within our accommodations here in the Department and will be staying here until the charges against him are dropped or a conviction is made.

The reason why I am relaying this information to you is because Mr Potter named you as his emergency contact. As you are the only adult wizard who has any role of responsibility towards him, I believe it best that you are well informed of the situation. That is why I am also granting you visitation rights. I also would like to inform you that Mr Potter has not named any legal representatives. He reserves the right to meet with a legal aide while the investigation is underway. You will be allowed to make any arrangements for him on his behalf.

I do hope that if you make a visit, you will take time to meet me. There are other matters regarding Mr Potter's case that are sensitive and I wish to only disclose in private. I look forward to seeing you again, Remus. I only regret that we must meet again in such circumstances.

Yours sincerely,

Madame Amelia Bones

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Surprise, relief and anger all merged together, leaving Remus in a shocked daze as he lowered the letter. He mutely handed it over to Sirius who took it up at once. Once he processed the information, his thoughts a little sluggish thanks to the whiskey, he looked over to Kingsley.

"Harry named me as his contact?" He asked. That piece of information was the hardest to process. Harry named him? A registered werewolf who he only knew because he taught him for one year?

"It was very smart of him." Kingsley said over his glass. "I expected him to name Arthur, but you are the better choice. Arthur's already under a lot of suspicion following Voldemort's attack while he was guarding the Department of Mysteries. Actually, that's why I hoped he was here. I have a feeling he might be called in for questioning about his family's relationship with Harry."

Remus stared at Kingsley, alarmed. "Is Fudge going to accuse him of conspiracy too? Me as well for being named as Harry's contact?"

"Fudge has no say in the investigation," Kingsley assured him. "Amelia has full jurisdiction-."

Sirius then slammed the letter down on the table once he finished reading.

"They're keeping him locked up in the Ministry until the trial? He's a sitting duck in there! "

Kingsley sighed, running a hand over his shaved scalp. Remus only noticed then how tired the Auror was.

"I'm in charge of his security, Sirius. Guards are posted outside his room around the clock-."

"They got to Sturgis. What's to say they can't get to one of your guards?" Sirius interrupted, his eyes wide with panic.

"Any attempt to move Harry out of his room without authorisation would trigger an alarm. One that locks down the entire floor. It would take a siege to get Harry out of the Ministry. A siege that Voldemort is not at present strong enough to attempt."

Sirius and Kingsley held eye contact for a few moments. Sirius furious, Kingsley calm and controlled, but assertive. Sirius looked away, sighing heavily.

"How long do you think we have to wait for the trial?" Remus said, moving the subject away from Voldemort.

"Once the interview process is over, Fudge can then present his prosecution to the Wizengamot. He has already underestimated Harry, however. I don't think he expected Harry to be as smart as he is." Kingsley said, the pride evident in his voice. "He's already making his defence and disputing the charges, making us work harder to pin anything on him."

"Did you see him today?" Sirius asked, his voice low with emotion. Kingsley gave a small nod.

"Briefly. I paid him a visit before signing off for the day to give him his glasses back." Kingsley drank some more whiskey. "I had them charmed so they can't be smashed. It was a good excuse to get to see him."

Remus shared another look with Sirius.

"And… how is he?"

"Bored," Kingsley said. "But better than yesterday. He told me that Amelia spoke with him in private and that she's willing to help him get dirt on Fudge."

"That's good news and all, but what dirt is there?" Sirius asked, picking at the table with a long nail. "Fudge is pretty good at covering his arse."

Kingsley knocked back the rest of his whiskey.

"That's exactly what we need to expose," Kingsley said then cleared his throat. "Fudge has been hamstringing the DMLE for years now. First he overruled our jurisdiction when it came to you," he nodded at Sirius, "using dementors to hunt you down rather than letting us do our jobs. He did the same thing in June when he overruled us when it came down to interrogating Barty Crouch Junior. The main suspect rather conveniently lost his soul and his testimony with it."

Sirius growled low and drank more firewhiskey, his eyes dark and menacing.

"Amelia is covertly running an inquiry into the miscarriages of justice. It will be discovered soon enough, but Fudge is more preoccupied with burying Harry. The more focused he is with discrediting Harry and Dumbledore, the more time we have to build our case against him. " Kingsley wore a grim smile. "A case that will serve as a very good defence for Harry and he's already laying the groundwork for us."

Remus's gaze drifted over to the letter that Amelia Bones sent him.

"I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow," Remus said then, his gaze lifting to look over to Kingsley. "I think it might be best if you meet me before I go into the Department. I might have Madame Bones's approval… but I'm still a registered werewolf." His tone turned bitter.

"Of course." Kingsley nodded, his smile small and subdued. Sirius sullenly drank his whiskey, his displeasure at being unable to see Harry himself evident. He didn't suggest going as a dog to accompany Remus at least. Since Harry had expressed his opinions about Sirius taking risks, he had been close-lipped about the subject. It had shocked him more than he let on how much Harry was more like Lily than James.

"I'll be staying here, as always," Sirius grumbled into his glass as he drank the rest of his whiskey. He then nodded at Remus's glass. "You might want to stop drinking. Can't go into the Ministry smelling like a whiskey keg."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I thought I'm the responsible one."

"You are. That's why you're the one Harry named as his contact. You didn't go after Peter in a blind rage and get yourself framed for murder when you should have been looking after your one-year-old godson who'd just been orphaned." Sirius said as he stood up, taking the bottle as he did.

"Sirius…" Remus began. Sirius shook his head.

"Don't bother, Moony." He lifted the bottle. "I'll cover for this." He turned his face away as he went to leave. Remus watched him leave, anguished and concerned, but over the last few months of rekindling their friendship, Remus learnt that Sirius needed space when he sunk into his self-loathing.

"Good night, Shacklebolt," Sirius said before leaving, giving the auror a half-hearted wave before slipping out the kitchen.

"Black." Kingsley said in response. Sirius offered a grim smile in return and left. Both Remus and Kingsley listened to his fading footsteps as he went to make his usual journey up to the master bedroom where Buckbeak was.

Weary, bone-tired all of a sudden, Remus sighed and finished his whiskey. Kingsley's eyes were unreadable as he watched the empty doorway where Sirius had vanished.

"Albus is worried about him," Kingsley said quietly. Remus looked up, meeting the dark enigmatic eyes. Remus didn't need to question who he meant.

"So am I," he said softly, looking down into his empty glass. "It's not just Harry that needs help. If there is a chance that Harry can be believed… if there is even the slightest hope that we can prove Sirius's innocence…"

He sighed again, closing his eyes. Kingsley reached a hand out and clasped his shoulder, making him look up at him.

"I swear to you, I will make sure Sirius gets his trial. Once Harry is exonerated and Fudge deposed, he'll be a free man." He then smiled and finished his drink. "Maybe then, I'll actually be arresting the real criminals… not school children. And then our fight won't be in the shadows any more."

Remus smiled and raised his empty glass to that. Kingsley winked, bringing out his wand. He tapped Remus's glass and then his own, refilling both.

"Until then however, I can settle for being a rebel working against a corrupt government." He raised his glass. A wolfish grin lifted Remus's lip as he clinked his glass against Kingsley's.


Harry Potter lay on his back on the bed in his jail cell. He was idly throwing a scrunched up ball of parchment up into the air and catching it over and over… and over again. His desk was strewn with other sheets of parchment covered in smudged charcoal markings. Some had his messy handwriting scribbled over, others he used to doodle and draw to pass the time.

The kind woman who had sorted out his processing when he arrived, Amanda, had come by and checked in on him during his second day of detention. She even left a couple of books for him to read, clearly feeling sorry for the whole day of isolation that he would be subjected to instead of being interrogated all day. The books were sitting on the shelf. He knew the woman had meant well, but romance novels weren't exactly his go-to choice of reading material to pass the time.

He let the ball of parchment bounce off his forehead and roll onto the floor. He blew out an exasperated breath. He rolled his head over to look at the door, which he could now see thanks to having his glasses returned to him the night before.

All in all, being in jail wasn't terrible. It was a strange thing to admit. He suspected that had Fudge or Umbridge been responsible for his detention in the Ministry holding cells, things would be a lot different. Instead, he'd been given fresh bedlinens for his second day, fresh clothes as well. The biggest surprise had been the regular meals. Jail time in the Ministry was luxury compared his jail time at the Dursleys. The portion sizes had been more than generous and the food had been pretty good. He'd left his empty dinner plate on the tray by the hatch ready for whoever was responsible for his meals to arrive and remove it. He wondered why they didn't use house elves. It was strange that he had qualified wizards delivering his food and seeing to his needs. He wondered if there was a canteen in the Ministry where the workers went on their breaks. Was he being given the same meals that the workers received?

Having a day to himself had helped him feel calmer about his situation. There was every opportunity to mistreat him while incarcerated, yet his handlers were keeping a close eye on his general needs. He could hear when the guard shift outside his cell changed every four hours. He listened in, but their conversations were just a low hum through the thick door and walls. He strongly doubted that Fudge would have posted a guard around the clock outside his cell nor taken seriously that Harry needed to be protected more than he needed to be guarded.

The trudging sound of approaching footsteps had Harry springing up from the bed. Kingsley had visited him around a similar time after his dinner the day before. He snatched his plimsols from the floor and tugged them on just as the bolts slammed back from his door, unlocking it.

Sure enough, Kingsley Shacklebolt entered his cell. His auror robes swished around him, his dragonhide boots causing his footsteps to be heavier and louder than the guards. His beam towards Harry's direction was genuine. Harry straightened, giving him an assuring smile back.

"Evening, Harry," Kingsley greeted. He gave Harry's desk a meaningful look. "I see you have got to work making your accommodations look like a teenager's bedroom."

Harry followed his gaze and gave a dry chuckle. It was a mess. He couldn't argue that.

"Call it my little act of rebellion." He said in return. Kingsley laughed back, nodding. He strode up to him.

"Well, I won't tell Fudge if you don't. We wouldn't want him to fine you for littering on top of everything else."

Surprised at the joke, Harry stared at him for a moment before laughing. Kingsley grinned at him. Seeing the Auror in a good mood had to bode well for him, especially if he was joking around.

"Ah, good, you've eaten," Kingsley then remarked on the tray on the floor, "we can go straight away. You have a visitor."

Harry blinked, catching up.

"What? But… how? Who?" He choked out the questions and saw Kingsley's amused look.

"You'll find out soon enough." He said, then his gaze dipped down to Harry's hands. He sighed. "It's policy to have inmates restrained when on civilian floors." Harry's heart sunk when Kingsley reached around his hips to the belt where he had his inhibitors hooked up. He heard the metallic clink as he retrieved them. "I'm sorry, Harry."

He dipped his head down and stepped up to the Auror, lifting his arms up a little from where he had them dangling at his sides. Unlike when he had to manhandle him before in front of Fudge and Umbridge, Kingsley was gentle as he clipped the solid bands of metal around his offered wrists.

"I guess your hands are just as tied, right?" Harry remarked once Kingsley finished and he awkwardly held his bound hands close to his chest. Kingsley's mouth jerked up in the corner and he nodded.

"I'm afraid so. I have to maintain appearances." He said quietly and took Harry's arm. "Remember, there are eyes and ears everywhere."

Understanding, Harry gave him a nod. He had to act as a subdued prisoner to avoid any suspicion that he was getting support. He walked out of his cell, spying the guard who was on duty waiting in the hallway. He recognised the man as Foyle, one of the more friendly guards. He nodded at Harry as he left.

Reaching the processing room, Harry saw that the enchanted windows were dark to indicate that it was late. It was quiet and he could see through the staff entrance to the reception that barely anyone was in. The silence was eerie.

Kingsley took him away towards a door that he hadn't been through yet. Above he read a sign - 'restricted access beyond this point'. Kingsley opened the door, taking Harry through as if they were supposed to be there. Harry found himself in a narrow corridor, the right side set with doors. Plaques read the names of the staff members who the offices belonged to. It was still deathly silent and he assumed that all the staff had gone home for the evening.

"Where are we?" Harry asked Kingsley in a whisper.

"These are the administration offices - where all the paperwork gets processed and filed. It links the detention block to the Head offices and the Auror office." Kingsley looked down at him. "You've been here before when you came with Arthur before your Hearing."

"Oh, right." Harry looked behind him, seeing the door they had come through was shut. "I take it that it's late if no one's here."

Kingsley nodded. They reached the door at the end. Kingsley opened it and Harry then knew where he was. He could see the opening that led into the Auror office where he knew he'd find many wanted posters of Sirius and likely the escaped Death Eaters. He could hear some activity. Unsurprisingly, Aurors worked night shifts.

"This way." Kingsley told him, taking him away from the Auror office. Harry's head was straining around to look in the direction of the Improper Use Of Magic offices. He wondered if Arthur Weasley was working late as well.

The decor changed from an office environment quickly as Kingsley took him into the heart of the operation in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The windows were more ornate, the doors now panelled and glossy. They reached the end of the main corridor where they came across the first people in the department. Harry felt a stab of nerves when he saw that they were guards, dressed in uniforms that were a lot smarter and sharper than the guards in the detention block. His gaze moved from their faces, not wanting to be caught staring. He looked up at the plaque beside the double doors they were guarding.

The Wizengamot Assembly Hall.

Kingsley didn't take him towards the end of the hallway, inside pulling Harry to the side in front of a black panelled door. He quickly looked over to the brass plaque beside it and let out a breath.

Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Won't… this get back to Fudge," Harry said as quietly as he could under his breath. He looked up at Kingsley who gave him the barest of nods. Not speaking, Kingsley reached for the knocker on the door. Harry looked up at it, seeing it was in the design of an eagle gripping the ring in its talons. Kingsley tapped the ring sharply against door.

The eagle came to life.

"State your business." The metal bird demanded.

"Senior Auror Shacklebolt with Inmate Potter."

Inmate Potter? Harry's stomach seized at the way he was addressed. He knew that he was classified as an 'inmate' but it was still galling to hear it said so bluntly.

The door clicked as the magical locks disengaged. Kingsley pushed the door open and guided Harry inside. The moment they stepped in, Harry could feel the brush of spells raking over him. He bristled at the touch, but then turned sharply to look behind him when the door shut at his back.

"We're clear." Kingsley said to him. Harry looked back around and then went still as he took in his surroundings. He expected the Head of the Department to have lush accommodations in the Ministry, but he didn't expect it to be as different from the box office Mr Weasley shared with his colleague Perkins in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

It was similar in size to Dumbledore's office with a high vaulted ceiling. Against the walls, filling every available space, were bookshelves. Every one of them was crammed with leather bound volumes, varying in size and colour. They stretched up to the ceiling which he noticed was home to a few fluttering lilac memos.

In front of him was a round table of granite, highly polished, with many chairs around it. It appeared like some sort of conference table. Beyond, he could see the doorway that led into another room, the door slightly ajar. There were doors on his left and right that led to other rooms in the office, but it was clear that his destination was in front. He could hear voices through the crack.

He gave a jump when the cuffs around his wrists suddenly loosened and Kingsley tugged them off. Harry sighed, the relief immediate. He brought his arms around himself protectively and looked up, meeting Kingsley's gaze.

"We are well within our rights to bring you here while in our jurisdiction, Harry, but you are right to suspect that Fudge will not be pleased." Kingsley said. Though he had removed the inhibitors, he still had hold of Harry's arm. He led him further into the room towards the office at the back. "Think of this as a little power play between two very important people."

"And I'm right in the middle of it?"

Kingsley grimaced. "You are." He nodded over to the table as they passed it. "This was where your Hearing was originally supposed to take place before Fudge overruled protocol and had it moved to the Courtrooms."

Harry frowned at that. "This is a lot less intimidating."

"It is," Kingsley agreed. He then came to a halt when they were a few feet from the door. He looked down at Harry, his gaze dipping down to his chained wrists. "But this is a lot more serious. Come on. They're waiting."

Harry gave a miserable nod. It wasn't just his wand on the line and his attendance at Hogwarts. If he didn't find a way to dispute Fudge's charges before the Wizengamot, he could be spending a long time in a much less comfortable prison cell.

That is until Voldemort comes along to finish me off.

He shuddered.

Don't think about that.

He shook himself mentally and focused instead on putting one foot in front of the other. He had to believe that there was a way out of the trap he'd fallen into. Kingsley pushed the door open, allowing them into the office before. Harry saw even more book shelves, a huge desk and…

" Remus! " He choked the name out in utter surprise. Sure enough, standing previously with his back to the door, was Remus Lupin. He turned to see Harry and Kingsley enter. The familiar small, fond smile was on his face when his amber eyes found Harry and lit up at the sight of him. Harry noted that he was dressed in less shabby clothes than usual, his dark robes not threadbare or patched. Harry noticed the others in the room, but paid them little heed, his attention focused on the sight… the proof … that things were becoming better.

"Harry." Remus gasped out his name and started towards him at once.

Amelia made her presence known, moving quickly from behind her desk. Her monocle flashed in the firelight as she came around. Harry then noticed the third person in the room who was standing to the side. Her arms were folded, her expression stern, but it softened when she met his look. He recognised the lime-green robes she was wearing and, at once, alarm prickled through him.

Why is a healer here?

He looked up when Remus was right in front of him. To his surprise, the man pulled him into a hug.

"Skies above, it's good to see you." Remus said at once, bringing both his arms around him. It was the first time Lupin had hugged him and Harry wasn't sure how to react. He and Sirius embraced often, their relationship much closer. Remus then held him out, hands holding his upper arms. He searched Harry intently as if looking for any signs he was hurt.

"How are you holding up?" He asked him, his tone serious. Harry's shoulders slumped and he let of a breath of relief.

"Better now." He said honestly. "I… I didn't think I was allowed visitors." The point was more directed to Amelia Bones who came to join them.

"Cornelius is currently handling a lot of backlash from the Wizengamot that he didn't anticipate. Denying you rights to visitation on the loophole that you have no close family members has seriously damaged his public image. Many believe he is exploiting your situation to isolate you - which he was."

Remus's face twisted with rage. "He only agreed to allow me to visit you because he knows I'm not a threat. I'm a registered werewolf and have no legal standing. Fudge wants you alone in the courtroom."

Harry looked up at him, startled at the unrestrained anger and hate on the normally composed face of his ex-professor.

"He's banking on me being unable to present a defence." He said. Remus's shoulders slumped and he nodded.

"And that is why we are here - to get started on exactly that," Amelia said, and gestured over to the seat in front of her desk. "Take a seat, Harry. Remus?"

Lupin nodded and went to take the seat next to the one Amelia pointed out for Harry to take. Harry looked over his shoulder, seeing that Kingsley was standing back. He appeared to be on guard. Harry took in a breath and went to take a seat, his nerves triggered as he went to join his allies at the desk. Amelia settled down in her seat, moving around files before her. As Harry sat down, he recognised the purple file that she moved in position in front of her.

Remus pushed his chair closer to Harry before he joined him. Harry looked across at him, grateful when he gave Harry a smile. Amelia then looked up to the healer who was still standing back.

"Have you ever received a full medical and magical diagnosis scan before, Harry?" Amelia asked once she had sorted out her desk. Harry blinked and glanced over to Remus. The man gave him the barest of shakes of his head.

"No… I don't think so."

"Not even last June after… the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry stilled at the sudden mention of that event. He gripped at his robes, his hands on his lap, and he shuffled to the edge of his seat.

"I'm not sure. I was… um… given a Dreamless Sleep Potion when I was brought to the Hospital Wing. It's possible Madame Pomfrey checked me over while I was unconscious but I… I don't know." He looked curiously at the healer.

Madame Bones made an impatient huff and rested her fingers together on top of his file.

"She did not. Results of a scan would have found its way to our medical records." The Healer spoke for the first time. She nodded down at the desk. "That is all we have for Mr Potter's medical history."

Harry looked down at the purple file and felt a little intruded upon that they were talking about his medical history. Surely that was private?

So private, it doesn't exist.

He frowned. Amelia had told him that his records were very blank and likely redacted on purpose, but she had pointed the finger at Fudge. Madame Pomfrey didn't work for Fudge.

She worked for Dumbledore.

Amelia raised a brow at the Healer. "Does Madame Pomfrey run scans for any other student?"

"Not without a parent's consent, no." The woman in the lime-green robes folded her arms again and she scowled. "That may explain why she did not scan Mr Potter when he was her patient."

"What… what exactly would a scan show?" Harry asked, interrupting. The Healer then looked directly at him.

"Every injury, ailment and malady a patient has had over the course of their life - magical and non-magical. It is very invasive which is why it is always done with a patient's consent."

Harry then turned to look at Amelia Bones, his heart jumping in his chest.

"You want me to consent to one?" He asked her. She held his gaze, eyes unblinking.

"I do, yes." Her stern eyes moved over to Remus. "That is partly why I moved to have a temporary guardian established for you. Remus is here to support you in your decision."

At that, Remus reached over and patted Harry on the shoulder to show that he was indeed there for emotional backup.

"Harry…" Amelia hesitated after saying his name. "You should also know that the results of a full medical diagnostic scan - performed at the hand of a qualified Healer like Celia here - can be used as evidence in a court case."

He stared at her, blood draining from his face. His right hand went over to the back of his left where the scars were etched into his skin. If he agreed to having his medical history recorded, they would find out about the many detentions where he had been forced to carve into his own hand. Umbridge's sadism would be exposed, black and white.

And yet…

Nervous, he fiddled with his fingers. He knew just how extensive his medical history would end up. Not just for the amount of injuries he amassed while at Hogwarts, but before then. Every time Dudley had broken his nose, every cracked rib, every black eye… the marks on his back where Vernon took his belt to him when he got into trouble for being on the school roof.

"It will also be confidential," the healer said quietly when Harry squirmed in silence. "What is made public is up to you and you alone, Mr Potter. As a Healer, I am bound to patient confidentiality. Anything you wish to keep to yourself, I will redact from the record."

His anxiety must have been very noticeable.

"Harry," Remus whispered to him. Harry turned to him and the man leaned to his ear. "A Healer's Oath is unbreakable. Not even Fudge will be able to get out whatever's redacted."

Harry nodded shallowly and then lifted his chin. "And will he be able to dispute what it records?"

Amelia gave him a warm smile and she shared a look with Remus.

"The results cannot be falsified. Whatever it discovers about your medical history, whatever you agree to have released as evidence, will be documented as fact."

Rems leaned towards his ear again.

"It will pick up any curses that have been used on you," he said under his breath, "Fudge won't be able to deny that you were cursed that night - and he won't be able to argue that you cursed yourself either."

Harry turned, his eyes going wide. He stared at him, searching his face.

That hurt, didn't it Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?

He flinched as the memory flicked in the back of his mind. Him, barely able to stand as he shook violently with the tremors of the Cruciatus Curse plaguing his muscles, while his ears rang with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.

"It'll be seen as proof?" Harry asked him, his heart starting to race. "That I really was… that he…" He couldn't say it. Couldn't say the word 'tortured'. "That I was kidnapped."

Remus's face tensed, his jaw clenching. He swallowed and nodded. Harry felt winded. The whole time, there had been a way to prove that he'd been at the end of Voldemort's wand, and no one bothered to bring it up with him. Remus might not know exactly what Voldemort had done to him in front of his Death Eaters, though he clearly knew enough to guess that he'd been cursed. But Dumbledore knew… and Sirius knew.

Madame Pomfrey knew. She'd seen him suffering the after effects.

"Why hasn't anyone told me this before?" He then said. Remus focused on him and his expression grew haggard. "Why haven't we thought to use me as proof?"

"You're not a piece of evidence, Harry." Remus said quietly. "But it should have come up - you're right."

Harry let his anger and frustration go. While it hurt desperately that there had been a way for him to defend himself from the accusations that he was a lair the whole time, it was being offered to him now. He had the chance to stick under Fudge's nose that he'd been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse twice that night. He could watch the man squirm and try to come up with some excuse that his torture was a 'tragic accident' just like Cedric's murder.

And he could expose Umbridge.

He had to do it. Even if it would unearth his trauma and his miserable childhood, it was key to everything. It was the ammunition Amelia Bones needed to go after Fudge and his cronies.

"I'll do it." He said firmly, lifting his chin to stare at the Head of the DMLE. "Do I… need to sign anything or…?"

Amelia gave a curt nod. She summoned up a sheet and passed it over the desk towards him. She inked a quill and placed it on the top. Harry pulled his seat with him to get close to the desk. He read the official document, seeing the wand and bone logo of St Mungo's at the top. He scanned over it, the document confirming what they told him about the scan and the means it could be used for.

The healer had already filled out her part of the form. His part was blank. He picked up the quill and filled out his details. When he then reached the end and added his signature, the strokes of his name flashed white.

"What was that?" He asked, suspicious.

"A spell of authenticity. If someone had tried to fake your signature, it would have burst into flames."

Huh. That's kinda cool.

He handed over the form to Amelia. Healer Travers then moved from her position as Amelia took the form and handed it to the healer. She took it and checked it over. She nodded, satisfied, then looked over to Harry.

"I have brought my equipment with me and I can carry out the scan in the conference room through there." She told him, stooping down to pick up a green satchel that had been stashed next to the desk. "We'll have complete privacy."

Harry glanced up at Remus, realising that he wouldn't be able to witness the scan due to confidentiality purposes. He nervously got to his feet and shuffled towards the Healer who watched him with a kind smile. She was around the same age as Remus, perhaps younger, with brown hair cut in a bob around her round face. She reminded Harry a little of Neville.

"Okay."

Kingsley patted him on the back when they passed. Once he and the Healer were in the conference room, Kingsley shut the door behind them.

"Try not to be nervous," Healer Travers said to him over her shoulder. "I've done these hundreds of times. Do you want to pick a seat? You might be more comfortable sitting than standing."

Harry followed her until she put her satchel on the stone table and opened it, bringing out different objects and setting them up. He approached carefully, grasping the back of one of the seats and pulled it out. She had set out a highly polished metal tablet, her wand, and a clipboard with several sheets of parchment affixed, ready for her to take notes.

She took a sheet of parchment from the clipboard and set it over the highly polished tablet. It lodged into place in the centre. She took up her wand and approached him, quickly checking him over.

"I'm afraid you are going to need to take off your glasses, Harry."

He reached up, a little alarmed that his hand was shaking, and removed them. She took them from him and set them aside.

"This should only take a minute, but it will feel a little strange. Try not to move while the spell gets to work."

She then swept her wand up, casting an arch of shimmering golden mist. It hung above Harry's head, then began to descend. She paced around him, casting more mist. Harry watched nervously as the mist settled down on his head first, his skin tingling at once. He went rigid as it settled on his face and his shoulders, then his torso and legs. His robes were glittering from the mist and it then glowed brightly, magic passing through his clothes and touching his bare skin underneath. He could feel it touching him everywhere. As if he was submerged in it. It was between his toes, behind his ears… and even around his privates.

He didn't like it. His chest started to feel tight, but he didn't move. The glow was bright around his face and the shimmering mist pressed on his eyes, registering the defects in his lenses.

"We're nearly done, Harry," Celia assured him as she paced to move in front, her wand still sweeping around him, sending more of the mist to settle over him. It pressed on him, pushing further, entering his body. It tingled his skin, thrummed in his muscles and then pushed on his bones, making him go rigid for a split second before it released him.

"Well done… you did amazingly. I'm going to collect the results now, okay. Keep still. It will be over in a moment."

Harry couldn't see much past the mist in front of his eyes. He was trembling when he felt her lean over her, holding something in her hands. He heard her wand tap against something metallic, then the glow disappeared from his vision. He blinked, seeing her standing over him, holding the polished tablet. Runes were gleaming gold as she moved the tablet down his body and the mist swept up into the runes. When she reached his toes, she took a step back and put the tablet down on the table. Harry let out a breath and slumped back.

"Are you okay?" She asked him. He swallowed.

"I didn't like that at all."

She gave an apologetic hum and went to her satchel, rummaging inside. She then pulled out something he did recognise. A bar of honeydukes chocolate. She snapped off a piece and handed it to him. He smiled, glancing over to the door where Remus was waiting.

"I thought chocolate was for dementors."

"It's a medicine for a lot of things," she said with a smirk and took a piece for herself. She then glanced down at the tablet.

Her eyes widened and her smile completely disappeared. Harry looked at the tablet in alarm, seeing that the parchment was no longer blank. Words were printing across the sheet, line after line. She immediately snatched it up and then grabbed her quill. She handed both over to him.

"When it's done, strike through anything you want me to redact." She said, her mouth set in a line. The way she looked at him then.

Reluctantly, Harry dipped his gaze down, taking the objects offered to him. The tablet was warm under his touch, pulsing with magic. He skimmed over his patient details.

Patient name: Harry James Potter

Date of Birth: 31/07/1980

Gender: Male

Blood type: AB positive

Height: 5' 6''

Weight: 8st 9ib

Then it started to document his medical history. He felt violated again at once. He made it up to 1984 before he couldn't read anymore. He looked up at Celia, horrified to see how she was still looking at him with unveiled sympathy and alarm. He held the quill in his hand, frozen, then he extended the tablet and the quill back to her.

"Redact everything between October 1981 and September 1991." He said, his hands shaking. She just stared at him. Her eyes trailed up to his forehead, to his scar, and then back down. Blinking. She slowly put a hand over her mouth.

No… no…

"Please." He whispered. "I can't… if it gets out…"

"Does anyone know?" She whispered back. "Albus Dumbledore must have… Poppy…"

He licked at his lip and then risked a look down at the list of injuries he'd sustained while living at the Dursleys. Some he didn't even remember - such as his fractured wrist he apparently received when he was three. Perhaps Vernon had pulled his arm a little too hard once.

"If they did, nothing was done," he said to her, then he raised the tablet at her again. "Please, it's not what's important right now."

Finally, she met his gaze and she took the tablet from him. She said nothing as she put it back on the table and stood over it. Harry gripped at his robes as she read over everything, then she brought over her wand and ran it over the parchment, burning out the lines of the evidence Harry didn't want on record.

Evidence of child abuse.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." She said as she blotted out his tragic past. He let out a breath.

"So am I," he said quietly. "But one fight at a time."

When she finished, she handed the tablet back. "Here - you… you can remove anything else that you don't wish to be on record. The purpose of this isn't to treat you, after all."

He winced at the bitterness in her voice and he took the tablet back. The parchment was marked with angry black lines where she had burned the evidence away. Without the horrible list of cracked ribs and incidents of concussion facing him, he read through the list of his magical injuries. He crossed out a few things. The scan covered everything including silly injuries like when Dobby's cursed bludger broke his arm and Lockhart vanished the bones instead of healing them.

In the end, he kept only what he thought was important.

31st October 1981

Dark magic anomaly located on upper cranium

12th June 1992

Cardiac arrest

20th May 1993

Large puncture wound in upper right arm

Basilisk venom contamination

24th June 1995

Acromantula bite to left thigh

Laceration to right forearm

Cruciatus Curse exposure - nerve scarring

Imperius Curse exposure

4th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 123

5th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 102

6th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 232

7th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 203

13th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 154

14th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 165

15th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 103

16th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 112

17th September 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 102

13th October 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 205

10th December 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 123

4th February

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 108

20th February 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 310

21st February 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 232

22nd February 1995

Cursed laceration to reverse of left hand x 50

A shrill whine went through his mind as he took in each and every detention he had sat with Umbridge. He focused on the detention he had when the Quibbler interview came out. Umbridge had made him stay until he was half delirious with blood loss. Seeing it printed before him, undeniable proof, made him feel half triumphant and half sickened. Umbridge had sat there and watched him cut into his own hand over a thousand times. She was truly monstrous.

After he handed back the tablet and let Celia make an official record of his scan, he studied the back of his hand. It was beyond the normal level of cruelty to inflict that amount of pain on a person.

"Before I release you back to join them, I need more information about some of the injuries that will likely be used as evidence." Celia finished clearing away her equipment, leaving only her clipboard and the medical record that was now sealed in a scroll to be handed over. All evidence of his childhood was gone.

She pulled a chair out, flicking her robes out before sitting opposite him.

"Will you let me assess the damage done to your left hand?"

Just as he had done with Amelia, he extended out his scarred hand. Celia expelled a hard breath as she carefully took his hand in both hers. She gently ran her finger over the scars.

"A blood quill," she said under her breath. Her brown eyes flicked up to him. "Did a cursed quill do this to you?"

He dipped his chin in response. Suddenly, her open horror brought home to him exactly what had been done to him in those hours alone with Umbridge. He'd been systemically tortured.

She let him take his hand back and started to write notes. Her expression morphed from one of horror to one of utter fury.

"You were made to write the same line again and again until it no longer sealed over?" She asked him, her voice tight with rage.

"Y-yes," he said haltingly. She scribbled down more notes.

"And did you have to continue even when it stopped healing?"

His breath hitched and he hesitated. Her eyes flicked up and her expression softened. She then reached across to him, resting her ink-spotted hand on his.

"You're doing really well, Harry, but I need to know the extent of damage."

He met her eyes. "Yeah… I had to continue when it stopped healing over."

Celia's eyes blazed and she looked back down, her quill scratching more and more notes. When she finished, she made a flourish that looked like her signature, then she removed the parchment, setting it on the table. Harry watched as it rolled itself up into a scroll and joined his record.

"I need to ask you about the treatment you received for curse damage." She let out a breath and stared across at him. "Poppy Pomfrey is very good at tending to backfiring hexes and potion spills, accidents that are common in a classroom. But we have specialists in St Mungo's for a reason. Was a specialist consulted at any point during your visits to the Hospital Wing?"

He shook his head. "No, Madame Pomfrey was the only one who treated me."

"You didn't see a single Healer?" She then asked, clearly very shocked. "Even... after you had been subjected to two Unforgivable Curses?"

"No." He said quietly, gripping at his robes again.

"Can you remember what treatment Poppy Pomfrey gave you for the Cruciatus Curse?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "I… I… don't really know. I was given a Dreamless Sleep Potion, like I said."

Celia sighed and started to write notes again. "It is possible that you were kept in Hogwarts for your protection, but a Healer could have been transferred to treat you properly. It sounds as if Poppy believed bed rest sufficient enough to heal after being subjected to one of the worst Dark curses in existence."

Harry looked down at his hands, his eyes stinging. It felt so horribly unfair that he had been deprived of proper medical attention. He had spent days in that bed, tormented with painful spasms that he'd been told would fade on their own.

"I… need to ask you about the Cruciatus. The scan picked up the curse, but no other details." She sighed and looked down at her notes. "Can you tell me how many times the Cruciatus Curse was used on you?" Her voice turned into a calm, professional tone. Harry tensed and then answered.

"Twice."

Her quill noted that down.

"Can you remember how long the curses were held on you?" She looked up at him, her eyes warm with understanding. "I need to know so I can record the true cruelty of the acts performed on you."

He could understand. The record had just said 'Cruciatus curse exposure'. Fudge could easily brush it off as him being tapped with a weakly cast curse or cursed like Fleur and Cedric had been by Krum when he was imperiused.

"The first one… maybe around half a minute." He said. Celia gasped audibly but she didn't look up. "The second was shorter."

"Thank you," Celia said softly. "Last question and… this is really important. I need you to describe the pain as detailed as you can."

Harry suspected this would come next. He nodded in response, hearing the ringing laughter in the back of his mind and the explosive sound of his own screams.

"It was like… every bit of me was under attack, like there were thousands and thousands of knives stabbing me over and over. Like… I was burning alive and the pain was so bad, it should be killing me but it just kept going." His vision went unfocused as his words came free. "T-that's the worst bit. No end, no relief… it didn't stop and I just wanted it to end." He sighed. "I wanted to die."

Celia stopped her writing when he admitted the last bit. He looked up and saw her eyes were closed.

"Sorry. That was a bit much," he said hesitantly. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

"It's exactly what makes it irrefutable," she said softly, giving a light sniff as she then signed the last document. The parchment joined the others.

She got up from her seat, moving to the table. Harry looked away pointedly when she wiped at her face. She pushed the three scrolls to the side and finished packing up.

"I read your interview," she said suddenly once she closed her satchel. "The one you gave for the Quibbler."

Harry, realising that they were done, got up from his seat. He hesitantly moved towards her.

"Do you want me to sign your edition?" He asked, trying to lift the mood. She glanced over at him, brow raised in surprise that he was joking after they just spoke about something so horrific. She then smiled and laughed.

"You should think about being a Healer with that sense of humour… but no, I'm not asking for your autograph." She picked up the bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "When I read about how you described the Cruciatus, I knew you were telling the truth. It's why I work with the DMLE. I verify testimonies."

She picked up the three scrolls and held them out for him. He frowned, wondering why she was giving them to him. He took them, holding them carefully, fully aware that they were incredibly important.

"I believe you without a shadow of a doubt, Harry Potter." She then nodded down to the scrolls. "Take those to Amelia. It's more than enough for her to make her move."

She then held out her hand to him. Understanding that she was going for a handshake, Harry transferred the scrolls to his left hand and took her hand. She smiled at him, then took his glasses from the table and put them back on his face.

"If you ever need to talk about… what I know about your past, remember my name - Celia Travers." She said, her smile fading. "I'm oathbound to keep it confidential, but if you want to talk, I am willing to listen."

He gave her a small smile.

"I need to get out of this mess first but…" He sighed. "Thank you."